The photograph-case, the knickknacks, if we can find them, But the war has gone on too long. We cannot talk to you still, as we used to, about the dead.) Nancy Huguenot’s here tonight. Have you danced with her yet? She didn’t want to come. She was brave to come. (Phil Ferrier was Nancy’s lover. She sent him off. She cut her hair for a keepsake. They were going to be married as soon as he came back. For a long time she dressed in black. Then one morning she rose, and looked at the sun on the wall, She put on a dress with red sleeves and a red, striped shawl, She said “Phil was my beau. He wouldn’t have liked me in black.” She used to cry quite a lot but she hasn’t cried much since then. I think she’ll get well and marry somebody else. I think she’s right. If I had to wear grief for a lover, I wouldn’t wear black.